"Little Boy Lost" - Part Eight

We had finished gearing up with weapons and were fitting ourselves with the throat mics when Donovan came back to the dining room several minutes later, a frown on her face. She sat down at the dining table.

"Everything okay?" I said.

She nodded and stared at a spot on the tabletop.

I said, "Why shouldn't these men get Danny?"

Donovan blinked and looked up at me. "What?"

"Before he died, your brother told me not to let them get Danny. Why not?"

She sat back in the chair. "I'm not positive but..." She paused, then went on: "There's something you need to know about Danny."

"Okay."

"He's not supposed to be alive."

Mouse, Jake, and I exchanged looks.

I turned back to Donovan. "Explain."

"A year ago I got a call from Jack. He told me they'd just come back from the doctor's. Danny had been diagnosed with ALS-4. It's a rare degenerative motor neuron disease that affects children."

"How rare?" I said.

"Only five other cases."

"Shit," said Mouse.

Donovan gave her a weak smile. "That's what Jack said." She let out a loud exhale. "The last time I saw Danny was about eight months ago. He was having trouble getting up from a chair. Standing. Walking."

"Why is Danny not supposed to be alive?" said Jake.

"ALS-4 is fatal. Works really fast. The longest of the five cases lived two years before she died. Jack said Danny had maybe nine months. A year was optimistic."

Mouse whistled.

"Now look at him," said Donovan. "Like he was never sick."

"What did your brother do for a living?" I said.

"He was a biotech engineer," said Donovan. "Private lab in the NorFed States."

"Hart Labs," said Mouse.

Donovan nodded. "That sounds about right."

"Eddie mentioned that Hart Labs had tech and military contracts," I said.

"What're you thinking?" said Jake.

"Not sure." I called out, "Hey, Danny?"

"Yeah?" he yelled back from the living room.

"Could you come here for a sec?"

Footsteps came down the hallway and a few seconds later, Danny appeared in the doorway. "Yeah?"

"You were sick before, weren't you, Danny?" I said.

He made a face and shifted his feet then looked at Donovan. "Did you tell them?"

Donovan nodded. "Do you remember being sick, Danny?"

"Yeah," said Danny. "But Daddy gave me a shot that made me feel better."

We all exchanged looks.

"What kind of shot?" I said.

Danny shrugged. "A shot. Like what you get at the doctor's. Daddy said it was a new kind of medicine. Not like the ones they made me take."

"And it made you better?" said Donovan.

"Yeah. It hurt for a while afterwards. Then it went away and I was better."

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and places featured in this work are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, institutions, or locales is purely coincidental.